


Unexpected Visits

by cuddlycathar



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Shower Sex, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 06:57:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1378072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlycathar/pseuds/cuddlycathar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is  taking a shower after a long hunt and a falling out with Sammy when an old friend “pops” in. A feathered friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Visits

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to all for reading! -H
> 
> I wrote this a reeeeaally long time ago, so sorry if there's some "continuity" errors in my writing styles (oops!). Anyways, hit that kudos button if you'd like me to write more and check out my other works if you would be so kind! Enjoy :)
> 
> P.S. this chapter's only a "Teen and Up" for now. Rating will go up later.

    Dean rubbed the complimentary soap into a vigorous lather on his scalp, attempting to let the boiling water cascading onto his naked frame strip him of his worries. Steam was filling the air, dirt and grime streaking itself down his legs, pooling at his feet before swirling away into the drain. Staring blankly at a day’s events being swept off underground was oddly calming for Dean, but reality came flooding back to him shortly, along with the bitter realization that nothing could be undone after it has passed.

    He was aware that the hot water would run out soon, but to be honest he didn’t give two craps if Sammy’s obsessive hygiene rituals were a bit chillier than usual. That is, after he was finished ranting to Bobby about Dean’s many personality flaws and got his sorry ass back to the motel.

    Dean couldn't imagine why he was so surprised that the day had gone the way it did. After all, they were Winchesters. Eternally cursed and equally burdened with a never ending line of shoes to fill, dysfunctional pretty much fit the job description. Still, no matter how much they disagreed or butted heads, they were brothers and would lay down their lives for each other in a heartbeat. That, however, did nothing to lessen the angst of a quarrel, if not making it worse.

    The day had started out like clockwork, or as close to it as possible for the brothers’ impaired lives. The Impala was purring away bright and early, her black surface still partially blended with the sky that had yet to dawn.

    In the midst of Sam’s compulsive research, he had been lucky enough to stumble across a handful of strange weather patterns that, among other things, indicated to the presence of a demon in the area. Where there were demons, there was a hunt, and Dean wasn't the only one itching for a dose of action.

    Again they were fortunate to find that neither Bobby nor any of the other hunters in his hometown had spotted the signs before good old Winchester intuition. For the available 2/3 of Team Free Will, the job was all theirs. Or at least so they thought.

    By the time Sam and Dean tracked the demon  to a little cabin five miles out of town, it was nearly a day and a half later. Right about then, Dean’s patience was wearing dangerously thin. It had taken them long enough to find him, let alone get him where they wanted.

    When the duo arrived, the lodge was surprisingly empty, at least from primary glances. Abandoned and ramshackle was definitely an evil type of thing, but for some reason this place just didn’t give off a demon HQ type of vibe. Each taking their own respective sides of the house,  Sam and Dean began with the usual  investigation. From what he could see inside, Sam was right about there not being many demons. Actually, Dean couldn’t see any at all. He peered in every available crevice and window, and no one was inside. After kicking in the door and making preparations, they waited silently for the occupant to return.

 Finally it came, whistling as he walked through the door and right in a devil's trap. It didn’t take very long for some middle aged lunatic named Rick, brandishing a shotgun to make his appearance, breaking down the door and earning a chorus of “What the hell!” from both of the boys.

    After a large amount of questions, which actually went pretty quick considering three of the four people in the room were       pointing guns at each other, the guy spilled. He was an out of town type of hunter, claiming the boys were “in over their heads” on this one. Not surprisingly, at the end of their little tea party, Winchester Jr. actually wanted to work with the guy.

    Pulling his brother by the sleeve into the next room, Sam spoke in hushed tones.

    “Dean, think! This Rick guy could be right. The signs just don’t seem to add up. I mean, why would a single demon just waltz into a town full of hunters!” Dean was getting tired of Sam’s more frequent questionings. I mean, he wasn’t exactly the perfect little soldier, but some faith in your own blood would be nice.

    “Gee, I dunno, maybe because demons aren't exactly known to be the sharpest tools in the shed?” he replied sharply. “ Oh, wait, I got a better one; he’s got a death wish!” Sam rolled his head, unfazed by his brother’s sarcasm.

    “Listen, we don't have to trust him, because  I know I sure don't, but try to hear him out, won’t you?”

    “No, Sam. The only thing other hunters mean is trouble.” Dean started to walk away, but was stopped when his brother spun him around by his shoulder to face him.

    “You know what Dean? You’re so much like Dad, and the thing is you don’t even realize it. Like, the only reason you won’t take help when it’s offered to you is because you’re too full of yourself to let anyone!” Dean tensed up at the comparison. He couldn’t stand being compared to people, especially not his father. No one knew the things he’d seen and done, he’d been to hell for Christ’s sake! A spurt of anger consumed him, causing him to lash out, shoving Sam towards the nearest wall.

    “Don’t you say that to me again, you bastard,” he snarled.  “Not ever! I am nothing like him!” Sam pried Dean off of him and out of his face, both of their tempers boiling. Most of what happened after that was a blur, but it wasn’t very hard to guess that the hunter- Dick, Rick, whatever the dude’s name was- saw them fighting and tried to break them apart, only to result in getting a nice uppercut to the face. Long story short, it took the sound of hurried footsteps and the slam of a back door to break the three  apart.

    Sam was the first to notice the absence of their interrogee.

    “Guys, look!”

    The hunters pulled away from each other long enough to ask,

    “Look at what?” In reply, the tallest strode across the room to stand in the middle of a devil’s trap with no inhabitant. For a brief few seconds, the only audible thing filling the air was a lengthy string of colorful curses via Dean before Sam shouted,

    "Enough!” and pointed to the trap, indicating to an area obviously wiped away by footsteps. Coincidentally, it was right about where the brawl had started. Everyone knew the demon wasn’t worth chasing; damn bastard had a head start and they were in the middle of the woods. Pointed fingers ensued, which was what caused the three of them to end up storming out of the house to separate ends of town, leading up to Dean's current sulking in a dirty motel shower.

    All at once, Lucifer’s words came flooding back to him. He had spoken them when Dean had been sent five years into the future to see the consequences of his actions and the aftermath of the apocalypse. The devil himself might be knee deep in the pit now, but his words still rang true.

    We will always, end up here.

    Come to think of it, he was right. Even though they avoided Judgement Day, Sam and Dean were always moving apart from each other, perpetually lodged in disagreements that would probably end up separating them, just as prophesied.

    A sudden gust of wind made its way into the bathroom, causing him to shiver. Dean didn’t bother opening his eyes, he knew it must be Sam, back from his temper tantrum at last. The damn kid never did know how to shut a friggin’ door. It wasn’t like he was born in a barn or someth-

**“Hello Dean.”**


End file.
